A Secret Admirer
by Tess 4 5
Summary: She gets a note and a dry twig of mistletoe in a stuffed envelope. Who is Barbara's secret admirer? She only will discover it on the Met's annual Christmas ball.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's usual notes and disclaimer:** I don't own any of the original characters nor the original Inspector Lynley Mysteries – they belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC. I have borrowed the characters from the TV-Show and solely own the ideas of _my_ stories and the developments _I've_ let them go through.

Please write a **P** rivate **M** essage if I did something terribly wrong so I can fix it. Thanks!

Please read and review! More thanks!

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 **Author's note and summary:** There are far too many ideas in my silly brain... here's another one.

She gets a note and a dry twig of mistletoe in a stuffed envelope. Who is Barbara's secret admirer? She only will discover it on the Met's annual Christmas ball.

Enjoy...

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 **A Secret Admirer**

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* * *

Sergeant Barbara Havers came into the office quite early this morning. Yesterday DI Lynley, her boss, had almost bitten off her head because she was five minutes late into the meeting. She thought he really could show more understanding. First of all they only reopened old files from old cases so there was no need to hurry at all. And second, she had taken over half of the work from one of their colleagues who was at the hospital. Four colleagues in total had called in sick and everybody was doing more than usual, even if on a case. She simply had slept in because she had worked until eleven in the evening before.

She had not gone home very much earlier yeatserday so she was completely knackered when she arrived today. Fortunately nobody was there to annoy her with their cheery mood so she could have a coffee before she read her e-mails and the notes and files that piled on her desk. She switched on her computer and scuffled to the tea kitchen. When she came back Winston was there, already flirting again with the new young PC that joined their team since the end of November.

"Morning, Winnie. Atkins." Barbara nodded on the way to her desk.

"Hiya, Barb! You're early!" DC Winston Nkata and PC Nora Atkins started to snicker.

"Not enough work to do?" Barbara shot them one of her death glares before she opened the stuffed envelope on the top of the paper mountain. There was no sender written on it. In it was a note and a dry twig with a white berry. A mistletoe? Barbara frowned. How she hated that.

* * *

It was late in December, everything around her wore silly jumpers or ridiculous hats and for her liking there was definitely too much tinsel and decoration hanging around. Being single and with her Mom now buried for several months she did not like Christmas very much in general and the quickly approaching annual Christmas ball of the Met in particular. She had stopped boozing with the boys years ago, she was not very much in that loose behaviour some of her colleagues showed on parties like that and she had of course no partner to bring so she always came late only had a few beers for the minimum of time she had to be present for the ACC's sake and then went home early to tuck herself away from the rest of the world with a blanket, cheesy fluffy films on TV and a glass of whisky she in fact only bought for Lynley's rare visits. Last year she could have joined Lynley at the ball if he had not decided to bring his 'cousin'. Usually he was at home in Cornwall for the festive days but she had forgotten what crude story he had told her about that woman and why he had stayed in London this time. Not once had he asked her to dance with him. Barbara knew she probably would have refused anyway but she was his closest working partner and she thought he was her friend too so he really could have asked her at least.

"Is that a mistletoe you're staring at?" Winston asked directly behind her. "Woohoo, you have a secret admirer! What's in the card?"

"Get lost, Winston." Angry that he had caught her staring Barbara threw the twig onto her 'finished' rack and tightened the grip around the note so Winston would not be able to take it. "Find yourself something to do before Lynley's here."

When Winston had taken his seat at his own desk Barbara finally opened the note. The text was printed and there was no signature or name under it so she still did not know where it came from. She started to read:

* * *

 **...**

 _My dear Barbara,_

 _this is a twig from a huge mistletoe. On last year's Christmas ball it had hung above your head almost the entire time._

 _You sat at the bar, carefully avoiding to drink too fast. I was watching you. You were bored to death and so was I. I had wanted to come over and ask you for a dance or two but unfortunately I was preoccupied. At least that was what I've told myself all evening. I've danced one or the other dance but it was not really enjoyable and instead of politely talking with my colleagues when I've given up dancing I just stood there, sipping my drink, watching you from the distance, admiring you in that beautiful dress you wore._

 _Then I recognised the mistletoe above your head. You obviously weren't able to see it. It was behind the beam with the funny reindeer garland._

 _Although a few colleagues dropped by at your place no one had kissed or even tried to kiss you. I hope they simply haven't seen the mistletoe. Maybe they were afraid of your reaction. I guess you would have given them some rude reply but I know for the fun of it you would have played along with most of your colleagues._

 _For a long time I thought about just going over to you and take advantage of the opportune situation. I would have been legally in the socially acceptable position to steal a kiss from your lips._

 _Only I dared not._

 _This year, and that's a promise, I will dare._

 _After you've gone home last year I've picked parts from the mistletoe, pretended to try to steal a kiss from the nice old barmaid (Maggie was her name and she had not believed any of the sweet lie I've told her) and then I went home too. I still have the twin piece of the twig I've sent you. I will bring it to the ball this year and hold it above your head so I would be allowed to give you the kiss I already should have given you last year. You may punch my nose but it will be worth it. And maybe you will enjoy the kiss - who knows. I can only hope._

 _Anyway I look forward to the ball. Only four days to go._

 _Sincerely, your colleague._

 **...**

* * *

Barbara felt she was blushing. Who had been at the ball and watched her? And where had been the mistletoe? She could not remember and she had not felt watched at all. The stuffed envelope had no sign of a postal delivery, not even her name was on it, so it obviously had been put here personally. Carefully she glanced around. Was it one from their team?

Maybe one of the women? No. Good gracious, hopefully no. Anyway the mentioning of the barmaid suggested it came from a male colleague. How unusual by the way to mention kissing another woman in a letter like this. The writer must be very sure of himself. But who could it be?

Winston? No. He was constantly flirting with Nora Atkins and he seemed genuinely having a crush for the young joyful woman. But he had mentioned _the secret admirer_ , like it was written in the text. Ah, well, still no.

Jonah Perkins? Barbara inwardly shook her head. No. He's gay. Or so she thought at least. You'll never know just from the outsides but he wouldn't have stayed behind and definitely would have made a show of a kiss.

DC Alan Norridge? Barbara flinched. Hopefully not. He's too old. And too greasy. Urgh. Yes, he would be the one she would love to give a punch in the nose or elsewhere if he would try to wave that mistletoe above her head.

Marc could be a candidate for this. DC Marc Ellerby, the cute young Constable, still wet behind the ears. He always watched her with his young puppy eyes as if he was secretly in love with her. Barbara would not punch his nose but she probably would explain to him that he should forget his advances and go and put his energy into hunting for a woman of his own age.

Maybe it was an officer from another team?

DI Thistledome perhaps? He was well known for his affairs. And he did not look too bad. But no, he was a bit all brawn, no brains. He never would have been able to write so well. But on the other hand, there were not too many colleagues who would write such sweet and eloquent lines.

* * *

Barbara's heart missed a beat. She knew who could write eloquent letters. DI Tommy Lynley.

He would be able to write even poems, of that Barbara was sure. But, no, not Lynley! Not for her. But he would not write _her_ such a lovely letter, would he. It could even be called a love letter. Well, yes he definitely was able to write something like that, but there was no way he would write one for her. She was his good friend, his _very_ good friend and they had shared a few wonderful private times throughout the recent year but then again she only was his Sergeant. He was her boss. He would not actually try to kiss her. And if he had wanted to he would not have shied away from this task. And if he would have kissed her it would have been of course a friendly kiss and nothing more. Of course not. Unfortunately. Because, if she was honest to herself, Barbara would not at all have punched his nose. She would have answered his kiss, stored away the memory and gone home with an even more broken heart than before. She was _his_ secret admirer, but he most definitely not hers. She was not playing in his noble league. After all he also still had not mentioned that he would attend this year's ball. He probably would leave London one day before it, when his two weeks spare time would start. Plus he was purely business recently. So, Lynley: no.

* * *

In the exact moment when Barbara had decided that it could not be the DI said handsome man entered the office.

"Barbara? We have a meeting with the Chief Super in ten minutes. Grab your stuff, I hope you've read it." There you are - all business.

He went to his office without any more interest into what she was reading or why there was a twig of mistletoe on her 'finished' rack. He had not even spent a closer look at her. No, the note definitely was not from Lynley.

Barbara put away the twig and the letter in her lockable drawer and then hurried to at least have skimmed the files on her desk. For the rest of the day she was busy with their work but she knew she would not stop wondering the next few days.

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	2. Chapter 2

**ch 2  
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She still had no clue.

The day of the Met's annual Christmas ball finally had arrived and fortunately she had not have to work that day and the following. It was close to noon when Barbara was sitting in her kitchen, still in pyjamas and warm wollen socks, sipping at a coffee and remembering the twig and the note. The note was pinned at the fridge door.

Until now she had limited the possibilities down to four. Five if she would count Lynley in but that was highly unlikely. Well, not highly but very much. He had not wished her a merry Christmas when he had left the office yesterday afternoon and he only had said "See you then." which almost had sounded as if he would come to the ball. Of course she still did not believe he would be her secret admirer, all the more because they had had a dinner two days ago where he would have had the best opportunity to kiss her if he had actually wanted to but he had behaved as friendly and correctly as usual and during the previous days they had been working together like they had every day.

On the other hand - hadn't all her colleagues worked with her like every other day?

* * *

Mitch Thistledome had dropped by like he used to to have a short flirtatious banter. He had not shown any different signs of deeper affection and Barbara also was not the only one he winked at. Like usual. But Mr Brawny may have asked someone else to write that letter so she still counted him in.

Of course puppy Marc - there was no way she could take him from the list - behaved like he always had, so he was Barbara's number two. Although she was not completely averse to having a romantic interlude for the festive days - and probably breaking someone's heart thereafter - she would not choose the sweet boy. She would not choose anyone from her team. Not even from the entire Met. Well, maybe there was one or the other exception. One, if she was honest. None if she thought about her chances. She sighed and took another sip while she watched the birds picking at the fat ball on her outer window sill.

Then there was DC Larry Black, another young colleague from Thistledome's team Marc had introduced a couple of weeks ago as being his class mate at the police school. Both had started their work last year in October so both probably had been at the ball. Additionally Black usually followed Thistledome at his heels and so had come around several times during the year. Black had become number three on her list after all three had worked together in the CCTV room for a few hours and the next day the young DCs had acted as if they had had an argument about it. It could have been driven by jealousy. With Black Barbara had practised a fast exchange of theories, one of those exchanges she usually only had with Lynley. Marc simply had watched them gaping and obviously had felt deeply annoyed.

Fourth on Barbara's list was Vernon Harper, the secretary of Chief Super Intendent Ardery. With the Chief Super already away on holidays Harper had found a lot of excuses to drop by lately. Barbara did not like him very much and also suspected him of spying out for Ardery if they all kept on working during her absence, but he was an eloquent person who looked quite good (and unfortunately knew it) and who also liked hearing himself talking. Something he probably could not as long as his boss was present. He did it even more now. Harper had annoyed Barbara by sitting on the spare chair at her table most of the time, drinking coffee the way she liked hers and having nosy conversations with her. About her work, about the latest cases, about the files and all the mail on her desk. He also had seen her fetching the note and the twig from the drawer to take it home. He had conspicuously winked when he recognised the twig as a mistletoe but Barbara had not reacted. She could only hope he was not the one.

* * *

At home Barbara had just for fun looped a ribbon and a bow around the twig and pinned it against the wall in her lounge. It was the only festive decoration in her flat and it was more than enough.

Now that she's gone through her mental list once more and still was none the wiser she decided to get ready for the day, run the last errands on her list and after a late lunch or early dinner get ready for the evening. She had opted for the new suit she wore on court appearances, only this time combined with a dark green satin blouse that never would be decent enough for court but not too indecent to be mistaken for one of the loose people on the ball. She had found nice shoes of almost the same green with a small heel so she would not stumble over her feet but would look more female than in her usual flat footwear.

In their team they had a habit of exchanging small presents on the 20th of December. Lynley always pleased everyone with a bottle of something but all the others had to pick a name from a hat and this year it was DS Anna Malone for Barbara. While she bought some wrapping paper and a ribbon for her little gift Barbara's eyes had fallen onto the racks with tree decorations and she spied a sweet thin silvery chain with tiny bells at it. Parts of that chain, combined with a safety pin hidden in the chest pocket and a red pocket square added and it looked very festive on her jacket. Although it would fit only a very small tree there even were so many of those bells that she hooked one of it at her thin silver necklace. The tiny bell dangled just three fingers above her bosom. Barbara admirered her little cheeky eyecatcher in the mirror. Finishing this she had decided she would look female enough and refrained from also putting more bells on earclips.

* * *

The day went by too fast and in the evening Barbara had her hair quickly pinned up in a messy ponytail. In the spur of the moment she had convoluted it with another part of the jingly tree decoration into something you could call a spiky bun. When she called for a cab it was the same time the ball was officially announced open by Hillier. Everybody knew of her constant delay so nobody would miss her. Apart from Hillier who once had actually mentioned she should drop by in time because she was, in the well-excused absence of their DI, the most senior officer of her team. Barbara had replied something vague about the ball being no mandatory state parade and had been glad that some officers of the special troops had occupied Hillier and spared her his reprimand. Of course this year again she missed the boring speeches. If her superiors would link it at that she probably never will make it to DI.

* * *

Barbara arrived there so late this time that the first officers already were a bit tipsy. After leaving her parka at the cloakroom she entered the humming room full of cheery people. Groaning inwardly about all the jolly joy she scanned the crowd. There was Marc, dancing with Anna, and there was Larry dancing with Nora, suspiciously eyed by Winnie who cramped his hand around a glass of beer at the bar. A couple of bar stools next to Winston stood the greasy Alan Norridge, watching out for a victim. Barbara had not yet crossed half of the way to the bar when he had spotted her. His eyes seized her up and then his facial expression turned into something undelightingly appreciative. He actually gave her a thumbs up so Barbara avoided getting too close. She took a glass of bubbly that was carried around on trays by the staff and directed her way very obviously straight on towards Winston. Of course she made sure that this time there was no mistletoe hanging at the beams above the spot where she had decided to sit.

"Hello you, what's new?"

Barbara gave Winnie a warm welcome hug and tried to distract him from the dancing couples until Nora returned to her glass. She beamed full of joy, was slightly out of breath, but after a few big gulps from her beer she asked Winnie for a dance. He happily agreed and so Barbara, completely ignoring Norridge's disgusting attempt to catch her eye, was able to continue her scan. Fortunately she still had not spotted any mistletoes.

* * *

In one corner of the ball room was a whole bunch of female officers, all dressed up to the hilt, surrounding the beaus of the Met, amongst them of course Mr Brawny, the famous DI Thistledome. At one of the tables Perkins was engrossed in a deep conversation with someone she had not seen before. When that man took Perkins' hand and briefly squeezed it, she was sure it must be his partner. Barbara smiled, mentally wiped him from her list and let her eyes wander further around. There were _the boys_ , standing at one table and downing a couple of shots with big hoorays. At the wall next to the big but closed windows was the first couple sharing deep saucy looks, being shortly before kissing. They probably only refrained from it because 'the Club' was too near to them. 'The Club' was Barbara's description for all the men in higher positions plus the politicians who showed up on events like this. They all were there with their wifes, all in their best fancy dresses, their husbands all in their best suits, some of them showing off their fruit salad pinned at their chests. And of course Vernon Harper talked with Hillier.

'Crawler!' Barbara thought and because their eyes suddenly met she gave him a syrupy smile. Harper only nodded but kept focussed on the surely very important conversation. He did not return her smile and also made no attempt to come over to her so Barbara also cut him out from her list. Close to them Lafferty, who definitely was not on that list, seemed to enjoy himself with his wife. Quite a bit unusually dressed compared to the others they stood there watching 'the Club' and very obviously bitching about. It made Barbara chuckle amused. Of course Mrs Lafferty would be informed about every nasty detail of the old men.

* * *

The only person Barbara had not yet seen was her boss. Maybe Lynley already was at home in Cornwall enjoying a nice shot of expensive whisky sitting at a cosy fire, she thought, and it secretly saddened her. Not that she really had thought he would appear but after his lame farewell yesterday she had hoped he would. After all he was her best friend so with him here she would at least have someone nice to talk to. If he would not come here with his 'cousin' again, that is.

"Maggie? A dark ale, please."

Politely smiling at the elderly barmaid Barbara ordered a beer. She knew that this ball will become one of the most boring events ever. Her decision of not attending it the following year almost was solid but then it happened that she actually enjoyed herself anyway. Winnie, Marc and Larry asked her for a dance several times and they had so much fun that she almost forgot that there was someone waiting for the right moment to steal a kiss from her lips. She still had no idea who that could be.

Eventually - she was just been spun around on the dancefloor by Marc and the bells in her hair jingled in the most jolly way - she saw the flash of a dark mop of hair. She tried to get another glimpse because it surely was Lynley's but since Marc had turned out to be the best and most distracting dancer in the whole Met she got no chance to watch the bystanders. Only when Barbara and Marc left the dancefloor with a huge but exhausted grin she saw him again. He was talking with another DI but his looks were following her and so he gave her a greeting nod and a fond smile when their eyes met. Barbara's grin immediately started to hurt when she saw the green twig pinned at his lapel with a silver clasp.

* * *

Good gracious, was he the anonymous writer? Since Lynley made no attempt to come over to her she very quickly dismissed the thought. And by the way, the fresh green with the full white berries did not at all match the colours of the dry twig she had pinned at her wall at home. Sensing she was still staring at the handsome appearance in his black suit she quickly forced herself to look somewhere else.

"I need a rest!"

After another beer and another dance with Larry Barbara even had to have a real break. She had danced more than enough, more than she had danced in the previous three years in total, so she was completely exhausted. The younger officers though agreed and they all moved to one end of the bar where they chatted excitedly about the latest things in the office, this ball or some of their cases. They had a really good time. Unrecognised Barbara already had stayed longer than she had planned over her morning coffee. She even stayed when Winston and Nora coyly started to lose themselves into each other's eyes over a bowl of peanuts and the other two were out on the dancefloor again.

Marc and Larry were good looking young men so it was no wonder that the young women of the Service occupied them with dancing a lot. The music meanwhile had changed from classic into distinctively less classic but Barbara would not want to hop around in that fancy suit and with the irritating jingle-jangle in her hair so she stayed at the bar while the others enjoyed themselves on the crowded dancefloor.

Barbara had just ordered a glass of water when she heard a familiar voice from behind. Having not seen him around here for a rather long period she meanwhile had come to thinking that he had left the event already. It would not have been the first time he had done it without a word. She was just thinking of last Christmas.

With a thumping heart she turned.

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	3. Chapter 3

**ch 3**

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"You seem to enjoy yourself." Lynley said. "Hello Barbara. You look absolutely stunning."

"Good evening, Sir." Barbara managed a cautious but genuine smile. "Well, yes, those young ones know how to have fun on events like this. You look quite attractive too, if I may say so."

"Of course you may." he openly laughed. "If you like what you see you're allowed to tell. I've already admired your beauty from the distance. You may wear a suit but you look better than most of the women in their fancy dresses." Briefly bending down to her Lynley whispered "And I do like that little jingly bell around your neck. Clever combination."

For a second she thought he would make the bell jingle with his index finger so close to it. She blushed. She tried hard to ignore that he just had called her beautiful. He surely only was being polite. Very secretly she eyed the green thing at his chest. Fresh, definitively not from last year, she discovered but apparently her look was not secret enough so Lynley recognised it. He laughed and tipping a finger on the small twig Lynley conspiratively leaned in closer to her.

"This year I've tried to steal as many kisses as possible but obviously nobody dared. Not even you. Well, maybe I should have weaved it into my hair." He winked and tickled a bell in her spiky and meanwhile rather messy bun. Barbara's eyes grew wider. These were even more words that matched the ones in the note she had received. She blushed when his hand accidentally touched her nape. It tickled and sent goosepimples across her skin. Unirritated Lynley continued with some small talk. Without very much response from Barbara he led the conversation for a while. Laughing he then ordered a whisky from Maggie. Barbara only had said such witty things like "Aha." and tried not to think about the tempting legal and socially acceptable opportunity to steal a kiss from her boss with the mistletoe twig at his lapel while they surveyed the dancefloor. Eventually Lynley returned his eyes to Barbara.

* * *

"Earlier I had thought about asking you for a dance but unfortunately I did not dare." Barbara swallowed again at his words. "You seemed to enjoy dancing with the boys and actually I had not wanted to rain on their parade."

"Ah, well..." Barbara only shrugged. She scolded herself that she should have left distinctively earlier to avoid a situation like this. At the moment she was not sure if she should feel embarrassed or flattered or both. But she definitely felt nervous and was not at all in the mood for a shallow conversation.

"Very rare failures this year, or so it seems." he continued. "The boozers are gone or at least still sober enough to stand upright and there only were a few couples leaving to the staircases this time." Lynley said it with an amused chuckle. Then he moved a bit closer and his voice became quieter. "You know, under the veil of secrecy Vernon had told me that there was a mistletoe prohibition this time. Obviously there was too much rampant kissing under last year's decoration."

"Oh?" Barbara cursed herself for being so stupidly taciturn but the smell of him so close to her seemed to have eliminated most of her speech centre. Lynley of course did not recognise it or perhaps was just politely ignoring it. But he leaned in another bit closer. He smiled and looked into her eyes. Barbara felt as if he was boring his stare straight into her soul. It was not easy to hold his gaze and keep that strained smile in her own face.

* * *

"That's why I have brought this." he murmured. Suddenly he held a dry twig of mistletoe above Barbara's head and then she knew in an instant who had written the anonymous note. She never would have guessed that four days ago. Lynley's eyes still were locked with hers and he had not stopped smiling. Her knees went weak. "Merry Christmas, Barbara!"

His lips were on hers before she could say anything. They were gone again before she could react.

Lynley's smile turned into a broad grin. "Mh." he hummed. "You haven't punched my nose. Well, that's a start."

"Umm..." Barbara was totally smashed. There was a tingling feeling left on her lips and she ached to feel more. On the other hand this still appeared rather unreal. She had been sure it could not be her boss who had written that he had admired her from a distance. Then again, a few moments ago that was exactly what he had told her. He had been watching her dancing. He had recognised the details of her appearance. He had called her beautiful again, hadn't he.

* * *

"I think I have to make up for a few missed opportunities." With that Tommy held the twig a second time above her head and gave her another kiss. This time it was softer. This time Barbara involuntarily returned the tender nudge. This whole situation was unbelievable and her mind only slowly processed what her body already was doing but in fact she enjoyed it very much. In fact she suddenly was completely delighted that it was Tommy who was her secret admirer and nobody else. All the time during the last days she had shoved away that dangerous thought because in fact it was too tempting and too unthinkable. And now the hope she felt, the hope she felt in his kiss was all the more overwhelming.

" _A lot_ of missed opportunities." Tommy whispered with his lips already hovering above hers again. This time he did not even make the slightest attempt of raising the dry mistletoe. His hands had taken hold of her upper arms and he slightly pulled her against him so she would not try to get away but Barbara would not anyway. She would have answered his kiss anyway.

Forgetting their surroundings they stood at the bar and tenderly kissed each other. Long hidden emotions surfaced and found their release in a tentatively slow and caressing encounter. Lips touched and then tongues edging forward curiously explored how they felt.

* * *

"Ahem!"

The couple dashed apart slightly out of breath. Hillier had come to bid his farewell to his most successful team but now would have to stay for a few more words with them. They owed him an explanation. A very good explanation. "Have you both got something to tell me?"

"No, Sir." Barbara croaked and pulled Tommy's wrist into the foreground to show Hillier the mistletoe in his hand. "He's just had-"

"Yes, Sir." Tommy had answered only a fragment of a second later than Barbara. He grabbed her hand. "Actually I love her."

"Oh." Hillier answered and searched for proper words looking from one to the other. He had not expected that.

"Oh?" Barbara said and looked at Tommy. Tommy looked down to her with a proud smile and put his arm around her shoulder to demonstrate his feelings for the Sergeant. Then Hillier had recovered. He found his words again. A lot of words. But while he lectured them about relationships between officers in the direct chain of commands they both did not really listen to the ACC. Tommy was smitten but Barbara felt anger rising in her throat. This had been such a wonderful moment and she could have enjoyed it for a bit longer if Hillier would not have dared to disturb them. She even could have picked up the thread again after he had left but Lynley had completely made her sober up. He should not have mentioned love. This was far too much. Too much for her turmoiled emotions and too much for the situation and Lynley definitely interpreted too much into this kiss, into his feelings. He could not possibly love her and he should realise this and Barbara definitely would not accept or believe it anyway. Not even with him telling it to Hillier which was like an official announcement. Plus he had told Hillier first. Before he even had said it to her.

"Idiot!" she hissed, tore herself away from his loose embrace and stormed out of the ball room. This evening would end here.

* * *

"Barbara!" Tommy exclaimed and followed her. She was quite fast, even on her unfamiliar heels.

"Havers! Lynley!" Hillier inefficiently tried to call them back. "Ah..." He shook his head in disbelief in the moment his wife's hand on his arm kept him from running after the two Detectives.

In the hallway to the cloakroom Tommy caught up with Barbara.

"Barbara, wait!" He took hold of her elbow and forced her to stop. "Please wait!" She backed away from him but he followed so they stood rather close at the wall and Tommy even took another step closer. Barbara had to look up at him. "Barbara, please." he begged again. The way he stood there was no easy way to escape him now. Well, she would tell him something.

"Did you really have to ruin it?" she ranted. "Did you really have to spoil that moment? I was so enjoying that kiss. I was trying to pretend that this was romantic. Oh, it was a romantic moment. Something I hadn't had in a very long time. When you've... When we..." She waved a hand through the air and grumbled. "I almost completely had forgotten that you just wanted to collect as many _socially acceptable_ " Barbara he almost spat these words. " kisses as possible with your stupid little mistletoe. You've collected mine. Fine. Leave it at that. You did not have to say you love me just to save us from Hillier's rebuke. It's not a joke. Love is no joke at all and no bloody game either. Or a sportive collecting challenge or something. That fu- ...that bloody twig you bro-"

"Stop!" Tommy interrupted her. He fiercely pressed his lips on hers to keep her from saying something she might regret but Barbara gave him a slap in the face. She did not run away this time so there still was hope to set it right. "Thank you." he mumbled and rubbed his cheek. "Thank you. I deserve it. I deserve it for being an idiot. I deserve it for making such a secret. I deserve it for not telling you first. For not telling you earlier how I feel for you, for only adoring you in secret. I deserve it for this stupid idea with the anonymous note and the twig. But you have to believe me, it's not a joke. It's not a game for me. Not at all. I mean it. I mean it from the deepest bottom of my heart. I love you, Barbara. I really do love you and I already have for so long now."

* * *

Tommy made no other attempt to kiss her again. Instead he kept on talking to her until she relaxed against the cool wall. For several minutes he gave her a detailed explanation and probably the most wonderful declaration of love. While he softly, desperately, tenderly and exasperatedly spoke to her Barbara could only listen, nod from time to time, watch him with big eyes, blushing, then paling, then blushing again, only able to breathe an "Oh..." or a disbelieving "Ah?" and "Really?" between his words.

She did not really recognise how he got closer while he told her how it had confused him when his cousin - and she really was his cousin, Tommy reaffirmed - had asked him after last year's ball why he had not danced with his sergeant when it had been so obvious that he only had had eyes for her. How he later had realised he was in love with her standing on the lonely veranda at Howenstow on New Year's morning. Why it had suddenly frightened him when he realised another bit later how deep in fact he was in love with her. Tommy explained how he had racked his brain if he should and how he could tell her. She, his friend, his Sergeant, who always had acted so professional towards him, a behaviour he thought to believe now was only her safety barrier because of all those _socially inacceptable aspects_.

He told her of all the missed opportunities throughout the previous year, of all his procrastinations and all the distracting circumstances, the trouble with the two, or was it three, new estate managers, the tricky Marshall case, the incident with his horse, her absence in summer, his absence during the unsuccessful test-run of that new commanding system in Bradford. He told her how he slowly and stupidly had manoeuvred himself into a dead end road of cowardness until it suddenly had turned autumn, then December. He had given himself an ultimatum for today to finally test the grounds, so to say. _Safely_ check with a silly little mistletoe-driven kiss what's really going on between them. Find out if she mirrored his love or at least some of those highly irritating but oh so wonderful emotions. Or if she in reality was just his colleague and friend and he, once more in his complicated, tricky life, had read it all wrong. This had been the most important reason why he had not said anything earlier. He had not trusted his feelings.

Barbara did not really recognise how his left hand eventually touched her upper arm. She did not even recognise how his right hand jammed the dry twig of mistletoe under a picture at the wall. Only when he had finished she tilted her head at his gentle request to look up. His right hand finally was cupping her cheek in the most tender way Barbara could think of. His thumb caressed the corner of her lips and his fingertips touched her earlobe and the sensitive spot behind it. He stood close, close enough to kiss her.

* * *

"And now that I've finished my monologue, now that you're properly placed under that little dry bloody stupid twig of mistletoe, will you please allow me to repeat the kiss?" Tommy still made no move to do that without her permission. "Or do I completely misinterpret how you became absorbed into our kiss earlier?" His voice was nothing but a croak now.

Barbara hesitated to answer so he told her again with his softest cracking voice. "I _really_ do love you so much, Barbara. And I'm sorry for the stupid idea with the letter." She just kept looking at him and processed all his words. Tommy anxiously waited.

"You know, you've never been in need of a silly mistletoe." she finally blurted out with a similarly husky voice and pulled him down to her, eager to feel his lips again on hers. All this may still be unbelievable but it was fantastic. This time their kiss was passionately deep and lasted passionately tender for a long while.

* * *

Mr and Mrs Hillier went by. He only shook his head but did not disturb them again on the silent request of his wife.

Lafferty went by with his beautiful wife in his arms but only whistled provocatively. He earned a punch of her elbow into his ribcage.

Winston and Nora went by hand in hand, giggling and blushing and definitely accelerating their pace to get home after seeing their superiors kissing so deeply.

Leaned against the wall Barbara and Tommy eventually parted their lips and tongues. They had started to enjoy the rising passion so much that it had become rather indecent for happening in the blaring lights of a public building. He watched her beaming face and grinned like a lovestruck fool. Barbara's rejoicing smile suddenly turned bravely seductive. A naughty thought had crossed her mind.

"Let's get home, Tommy." she murmured combing her hand through his ruffled hair. "There's a nice little twig of mistletoe pinned against the wall in my flat."

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 **A/N:** I know, one or the other similar theme already had appeared before but somehow my story went some of those ways again.

Again I wish you merry festive days and a peaceful new year!

Thanks for your reviews and your kind words and for one or the other constructive critique. It's a pleasure to 'waste' my time here with you.

 **Tess**


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